


Behind Closed Doors

by alotofbears



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Dean, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Constipation, Hurt Castiel, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Pining Castiel, Smut, Unrequited Castiel/Dean Winchester, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:19:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6854392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofbears/pseuds/alotofbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester carries a secret that he's only shared with one person; Castiel Novak. For two years Castiel has kept this secret and through this time they have grown closer. Castiel is in love with Dean Winchester, but Dean isn't ready to come to terms with his sexuality. </p>
<p>Graduation is coming and Castiel isn't sure if he's ready to say goodbye to what they have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hope you enjoy the first chapter. Chapter 2 is already in the works and I shall post it as soon as possible.
> 
> And I want to say thank you to [InExtremis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InExtremis/profile) for being my beta and me best bud.

The moment Dean Winchester beings slamming down shots, the night starts to go down. 

Finals were right around the corner, and the air was tense with worry around the school. In a week's time, students start their ritual of all-nighters as they scramble to finish research papers. The essays were assigned at the beginning of the year but were neglected for staying out on a Friday night. Dean Winchester is one of those students. Yet there was also a sense of excitement among the fear; It was his final year. The cap and gowns had arrived and at this point, the seniors were done trying. Dean himself began showing up later and later to class each day. His grades weren’t important at this point; Either way, he’d end up on the road hunting. If he decides to not finish an essay or two, no one will give a damn.

He’d been preparing for this moment his whole life; Permanently taking on the family business and kissing any sense of stability in his life goodbye. Sam was lucky. He was still young, barely out of middle school. He had a few more years before their father started to breathe down his neck, day and night, to make sure that he remembered his responsibilities. It was taxing, yet in some ways, Dean saw it as a blessing. If he were to fail his senior year, no one was going to be disappointed. No family was waiting, patiently, to see which prestigious school he’d be shipped off. No aunts trying to wage a competition between him and her own sons.

Dean was surrounded by other students that he pitied. Each one worrying themselves over grades, stressing over acceptance letters that have yet to come in the mail; Stressed and close to pulling out hair from the onset of adulthood. Their futures were dependent on these last set of grades for the year.

And here he is. Crammed into the house of a random ass person who he'd probably never speak to. The faint smell of weed lingering in the air and music playing from various speakers scattered around the home. He always wondered how a parent of a senior could leave the house for a weekend and think anything good could come of it. Hell, he’d thought of throwing a few parties in his home. He would’ve done it too — If he didn’t have to worry about Sammy’s bitching. Also, his dad would’ve kicked his ass into the next week for thinking he could get away with throwing a party.

Instead, he just leeched off of another kid’s kind, naive parents to get his fix.

He stood in the kitchen, trying to silence his worrying mind with a bottle of Jack. A small group had formed around the kitchen table, cheering as they lifted their glasses for a toast. He tossed the whiskey back and slammed his shot down on the table, letting his shoulders slouch as he swallowed down the bitter drink. He gave no reaction to the taste and silently watched as a few guys to his right started to splutter and cough; 'Sophomores,' he thought to himself before he turned his attention away. He has grown accustomed to hard liquor and late nights, unlike his younger peers. Dean Winchester may not be good at a lot of things, but he could damn well drink.

The alcohol was sitting warm in his belly, and a calm feeling was creeping through his body. It was familiar and comforting. The alcohol was doing its job; numbing his mind to the events of the past month.

Dean was slouching against the countertop, trying to decide if he should instigate a game of beer pong just as a man with dark hair approached the kitchen. He pushed the shot glass away and stood up straight. Dean's body became rigid and taut, ready to bolt out of the room if he needed to. 

“Dean?”

His breath caught in his throat as their eyes meet. What was he doing here? The last time he’d checked, he didn’t go to parties. He stayed at home; Probably reading the Bible with his family and having nice dinners while his parents showed an actual interest in his school work. Dean felt as though his heart was going to cave in on itself. The source of his stress was staring him in the face like he’d punched the guy or something.

“Hey, Novak,” he responded, voice cracking. He ducked his head down, before turning quickly to exit the room. He might have heard the guy call out to him and if he did he ignored it. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he felt surprisingly sober for the amount of alcohol he tossed back. But those type of situations will do that too you. It kills the mood.

He drunk to try and rid himself of his troubles, but it's awfully hard to forget about a problem when it keeps staring you in the face. He'd been avoiding this confrontation just as he'd been avoiding his essays. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and erase the pained look that overtook those blue eyes. It damn near broke his heart to even acknowledge the fact he’d caused that pain. 

He picked up another beer from a bucket of ice and snapped the bottle cap off before taking a swig. His feet carried him around the corner, he maneuvered around dancing bodies and into the living room. He'd just call it a night and head home. However he thought about those blue eyes, and the jaw line covered in dark stubble, and his stride staggered as he considered going back.

“Dean? I didn't know you'd be here… Didn't you have a paper to work on?” Dean stumbled to a stop as he was pulled out of his thoughts. The sound of his name nearly made him jump out of his skin. Anna was standing in front of him with her arms across her chest, pushing her chest out. It was honestly a bit excessive. The shirt she was wearing was low cut, and it keeps nothing to the imagination, but Dean had to admit, she was still kind of hot. 

He cleared his throat and gave her a weak smile, shifting from foot to foot. He stepped closer, leaning in a bit too much to speak into her ear over the steady pounding of the music. Maybe he wasn't as sober as he'd thought?

“Anna? Sorry, I decided to go out last minute baby.”

“Mhm, sure Winchester,” she said smiling, her hands resting on his chest, grabbing at the collar of his shirt to pull him down into a kiss. Their lips pressed together in an awkward kiss. Anna moved her lips, struggling to get a reaction out of Dean as her spit dripped down his chin. She withdrew, their lips lingering together, brushing lightly in teasing touch, “And here I was thinking you weren’t going to call me back.”

Dean ducked his head down and captured her lips, tilting his head and going through the motions before he pulled away. His breathing was already heavy from the brief kiss as he pressed their foreheads together.

Nothing. He felt nothing.

He’d been avoiding this moment for about a week, but they were too friendly for Anna to be able to admit that maybe Dean just didn’t want to pursue a relationship. They’d had sex in the least romantic possible; Against his car out near the lake after senior prom during an after party. Dean felt wrong for leading her on, but she already knew the type of guy he was when she first kissed him. His stomach tightened, and his throat felt dry as he licked his lips. She deserved better than what he’d given her, but there was no taking it back. “Sorry Anna, I gotta go,” he mumbled as he slowly pulled away.

Dean wandered aimlessly around the house. Occasionally saying hello to a few people here and there, but he soon found himself outside. Dean went to go lean against the banister of the porch. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before taking a long drink from his beer. His cheeks were warm, and the heat seemed to spread throughout his body. He couldn't tell if the grass of the front yard was shifting in front of him and his mind felt clouded.

He quietly finished his drink before his fist tightened around the bottle before he dropped it into the bushes below. Dean groaned and let his head drop down, forehead resting on his forearms as he contemplated just leaving the party altogether. He could just make everything easier on himself. Walk the five miles home, crawl into the window of his home and blackout in the comfort of his own bed. Maybe he’d even down another beer before he went to bed, to ensure he’d be knocked out past noon the next day.

“Dean?” Castiel called out, timidly before stepping out onto the front porch. Dean didn’t turn around, or respond but Castiel knew he’d heard him. He slowly walked to stand behind him, hands fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. He took a deep breath and stood in silence, trying to muster up the courage to speak.

“We should talk,” he finally said, voice low.

Dean’s lips tightened, and he remained focused on the lawn like the grass was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. He quietly thought to himself, that he should have left the party. But he couldn’t have brought himself to leave even if he wanted to. He couldn’t reject Castiel; He was too weak willed to stay away from him for too long. Dean tried, but he eventually failed.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“I was waiting for you last weekend… You never showed up.”

“I was busy studying.”

“No, you weren’t Dean… I know you went to a party. I don’t think you have even started studying for finals — Have you?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. By this point, Castiel should be used to getting nothing but lies from Dean Winchester. Time after time he promised himself that he’d harden up and put his foot down. Castiel deserved to be told the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to force Dean to tell him against his will. Dean Winchester had his reasons, and Castiel tried to respect that, despite the pain it caused him. He was terrified if he pushed too hard he’d lose him completely.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I should have called and canceled?” Dean asked, turning around to face him.

“Frankly, yes Dean.”

Dean took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, “Cas. It's not that simple.”

“I am confused by your actions Dean. You called me and asked me on a date, and you didn’t show up. I — I thought you would change. Everyone speaks so badly of you, Dean. That you have sex on the first date, and that there’s never a second one… I will never speak of our sexual relationship Dean Winchester, but you should treat me better than this. I am more than just a thing you call when you get tired of women. I am a human being with feelings.”

Castiel’s eyes hardened, “We need to talk about this, Dean. You know we do.”

Dean avoided Castiel’s confused glare and kept his attention on the buzzing streetlights.

“I suspect — I suspect that you may have feelings for me, too, Dean Winchester. And I understand it may be… Difficult to come to terms with these feelings, but I care about you, and I want the best for you,” he started, but his voice became strained as the reality of what he was doing was setting in. Castiel took a deep breath and straightened his back, lifting his chin.

“I will try to help you Dean, but I fear your problems stem from your father and what I’ve seen of your relationship isn’t—”

“Don’t bring my father into this Cas. You don’t know shit about my family, you don’t have the goddamn right,” Dean bit out.

“... It isn’t healthy Dean,” he said, voice dropping down to a whisper as he drew closer to Dean. His hand lightly caressed Dean’s neck, his thumb rubbing against the light stubble on his jaw. He took in a deep breath as he looked Castiel in the eyes. He clenched his jaw, as his body tensed up at the contact, eyes darting around the empty porch, weary that someone was watching. That someone would see them like this; Together.

He was afraid of letting his feelings be known because if he acknowledged the problem it would become real and Dean would be forced to face it. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t trust his voice to stay steady. The way Castiel’s gruff voice and expressive blue eyes shook him to his core. He could resist this vice, the urges he buried deep in his gut until Castiel spoke gently to him, coaching him to allow himself be loved. Dean watched Castiel walk down the hallways, unabashedly open and proud about his sexuality. So confident and radiating love and personal acceptance.

“Cas—We’ve talked about this. Personal space, remember?”

Castiel didn’t move. He stayed where he was, their breaths lingering between them. Dean’s teeth worried his bottom lip as his eyes darted to the front door, watching out for anyone who might wander across them standing so close. He stared at the tip of his boots, hands buried deep in his pocket as he considered his options. “Maybe we should—Want to take this upstairs?” Dean asked, voice dropping into a soft whisper, looking up at Castiel through his eyelashes.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him, “Dean?” His heart almost fell into his stomach. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Any time they’d try to make progress, any time Castiel tried to figure out Dean Winchester, he diverted the conversation. “You can’t speak to me for more than 5 minutes without resorting to gaining sexual gratification, can you? At this point, I feel as though you can’t even look at me without thinking about oral sex, because frankly Dean, you’re bi—”

The kiss was sudden; It was rough and felt desperate. Dean could taste the alcohol on his breath, and he was sure Castiel could taste it on his. They broke apart just enough for Dean to study Castiel’s shocked face before he manhandled him to turn around and head towards the house. They pushed their way through the front door and through the crowd. They moved on clumsy feet, desperate hands grasping at each other's clothes. Castiel’s hand found the hem of Dean’s jacket, and he pulled him up the stairs, stumbling as they went, Dean’s hand grasping at his hips to steady himself. Castiel lead them into a room at the top of the steps, with a tight smile on his lips. It didn't reach his eyes.

Two bodies stumbled into the dark bedroom, hands grasping and pulling at one another. Dean’s back meet the wall in a thud as Castiel quickly went to work pushing his jacket off and pressing his lips to Dean’s.

The kiss was rough and felt desperate. “Fuck, Cas,” he grunted out as he broke away from the kiss.

He gazed down to Castiel, and it felt like he was drowning, heart fluttering as he stared into those blue eyes. His breathing got heavier as the man slipped down to his knees, hands trailing down Dean’s chest as he went. Dean’s head rolled back to rest against the wall as he felt hands wrestle with the button and zipper of his jeans.

Castiel pulled his jeans down past his hips before placing his mouth over Dean’s cloth covered cock, pressing kisses against the fabric of his boxers. Slowly, Castiel kissed the bare skin above the elastic of Dean’s boxers and up to his naval. He pushed his shirt up slowly, his hands squeezing Dean’s sides, tracing over the curves of the muscles of his core. Dean gazed up at the ceiling, as he focused on the sensations running through his body as he felt the chill air on his cock as Castiel slipped his briefs down.

“Alright you—you have 5.... 8 minutes to cut that gay shit out.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at Dean, lips falling into a frown.

Dean took a deep breath, dropping his chin to gaze down at Cas. Their eyes meet, and he felt his chest tighten, body relaxing into the wall. His hand gently caressed Castiel’s face, his thumb rubbing circles into his cheek as his cock was freed from his boxers. The blue eyes were bright with anticipation, as he took Dean’s dick into his hand, giving it a few loose strokes. His jaw went slack as he felt the warm heat of Cas’ lips wrap around the head of his dick, and his body shivered at the press of a wet tongue to the tip.

Castiel kept his eyes focused on Dean’s reactions as he slipped more of his length into his throat. He pulled off, his hand tightening at the base of the cock as he jerked him off, he could feel Dean swelling in his hand.

“Fuck Cas — so good,” he moaned, bottoming out in Castiel’s throat, his hand buried in his thick dark hair. His hips moved, pushing himself in deeper before he felt Castiel’s nails pinch into the skin of his thigh and he loosened up, pulling out. The lack of air took Castiel by surprise, and he was left coughing, spit running down his chin as he tried to recompose himself. He eased his breathing before he eagerly took Dean back into his mouth, licking and lapping at the precum leaking from his swollen cock. Slowly bobbing his head, matching the subtle thrust of Dean’s hips. Dean was reduced to a blubbering mess as Castiel gazed up at him. Lips swollen and pink, his hair left a mess from Dean fucking into his tight throat. It was hot, and Dean didn’t want this to end, but he felt his stomach tightening.

“C-Cas, I’m gunna—” he stuttered out, eyes squeezing tight.

He looked down at the man between his legs, his hand moving to caress Castiel’s cheek. Castiel blinked up at him, blue eyes gazing up at Dean as he swallowed his cock down to take his load. Dean’s legs felt weak, and he slumped against the wall as Castiel pulled away, licking his lips before moving to sit down on the ground. Dean stayed quiet, the sound of his breathing filling the room. He was left speechless. What was he suppose to say to a man who’d just sucked him off? His heart felt heavy in his chest, and he was at a loss for words.

He avoided those piercing blue eyes that silently begged for him to say something, to say anything but Dean wasn’t sure he could. This thing they had between them wasn’t going to be resolved. Dean Winchester wasn’t gay, or bisexual, or anything that would suggest he got off on a strong jaw line, scruffy facial hair, and a muscular chest. He just couldn't be.

He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up to straighten himself out. He kept his eyes leveled and away from Castiel as he stood up from the floor. “I—I need to go. Anna is probably lookin’ for me,” he said, clearing his throat as he placed his dick back into his boxers and pulled up his jeans.

Castiel gave a small nod, lips swollen and eyes sullen. He was aware that Dean wasn’t going to just automatically come out and start dating him just because of a lousy blowjob. He promised himself that he wasn’t going to get his hopes up, or his heart broken again but here he was standing in the middle of an unfamiliar room, a bitter taste at the back of his tongue, and his chest feeling cold. He tried to meet Dean’s eyes, “Okay, Dean. I will see you in class on Monday.”

“Okay, cool.”

“... Okay.”

And just like that, Dean was gone.

He walked out of the door, back down the steps and into the throng of high school kids wanting to escape their mundane problems by drinking down bitter alcohol and dancing into the night. Castiel’s lips tightened, hands clenched into a fist by his sides as he waited for one, two, maybe five minutes before heading down the steps and out of the house to assure he wouldn’t have to see Dean again so soon.


End file.
